


Orange Butterflies

by a_chilleus



Series: Cloth Armour Series [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Protective Merlin, Sensory Overload, autistic Merlin, once again no relationship made explicit between merlin and arthur so read it however you wish, the OC is a young autistic girl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:35:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23006590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_chilleus/pseuds/a_chilleus
Summary: "Strange child, from what I’ve heard.” Arthur sighed and pushed his now empty breakfast plate away.“Really?”“Apparently she rarely speaks, won’t make eye contact,” Arthur paused for a second, and Merlin smiled awkwardly. “Some people — superstitious people — think she’s cursed."
Series: Cloth Armour Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653442
Comments: 8
Kudos: 105





	Orange Butterflies

Merlin sat on his bed, a single candle burning as he thought, hands twisted comfortably in the edges of the blanket he wrapped around his shoulders for warmth. There were new people in the castle. Gwen had warned him; Merlin didn’t know how, but she seemed to have noticed how much quicker he was to get stressed around new people, how it took so much less to exhaust him. She had stopped him in the hallway last week to tell him of the news she had heard from Morgana and made sure to include what little she knew of the guests. A noble family: parents and a young child, from a neighbouring kingdom, here for some dull political reason. Morgana had a soft spot for the wife, who she said had married young, perhaps too hastily. Merlin considered this, beginning to rock back and forth. He liked children, even if he didn’t always know how to act around them. Children tended to be easier to read than adults; they showed their emotions more readily, instead of hiding behind irony and expecting you to understand things that hadn’t ever been said. On the other hand, children were unpredictable, illogical creatures.

“Merlin, what are you doing still up?” Gaius had poked his head round the door, and Merlin immediately ceased rocking.

“Just thinking,” Merlin replied. Gaius shook his head.

“Get some sleep.”

—

Merlin entered Arthur’s chambers without knocking. The prince was already up, stood at the window, staring out into the courtyard. His posture appeared relaxed, but Merlin noticed Arthur’s right hand flexing as if itching for his sword.

“Morning sire,” Merlin said cheerfully, setting the breakfast tray on the table. Arthur startled and glared at Merlin, who merely smiled.

“You know, Merlin, one day your lack of manners will get you in trouble. You’d better not barge in on our guests like this.” Arthur sat down and began to eat.

“Have they arrived yet?” Merlin asked as he poured Arthur’s drink. He winced as Arthur’s knife scraped on his plate especially loudly, shuddering involuntarily, one hand rising to his scarf.

“Yes, they arrived just before you so rudely...” Arthur paused, noticing Merlin’s sudden change in demeanour. His eyes flickered to Merlin’s; Merlin looked away and busied himself with making Arthur’s bed. Arthur didn’t finish his sentence. Merlin noted gratefully that the unpleasant metallic sounds didn’t return, and he allowed himself to relax the tension in his shoulders. 

“What are they like?” Merlin asked after a while.

“Who?” Arthur tensed almost imperceptibly at the question.

“The guests.”

“Well I haven’t met them personally since before their daughter was born — nine years ago it must be. Lord Helgarth is a bad-tempered man, but as I understand very fair.”

Merlin nodded as he tidied Arthur’s chamber. “What about his wife?”

“The Lady Margaret is quiet and in my opinion quite boring. Morgana seems to like her but I’m not sure why... They’re close in age, which might help. I don’t know much about her. I’ve heard more about her daughter, really. Strange child, from what I’ve heard.” Arthur sighed and pushed his now empty breakfast plate away.

“Really?”

“Apparently she rarely speaks, won’t make eye contact,” Arthur paused for a second, and Merlin smiled awkwardly. “Some people — superstitious people — think she’s cursed. They say she howls like an animal when touched by anyone other than her mother, that she screams and screams and none of the servants dare go near her. At least, that’s what I’ve heard — you know how people are with rumours.” Arthur took a breath, looked out the window, then spoke quietly, almost to himself.

“I’m sure she’s a perfectly nice child.”

Merlin collected the breakfast things and left in silence.

—

“Do _you_ think the girl is cursed?” Merlin sat cross legged on the floor of Gaius’ chambers, grinding herbs for a poultice. He couldn’t remember the names of the herbs, but they smelled strong, almost sharp. He couldn’t decide if he liked them or not.

“I haven’t met the child, Merlin,” Gaius sighed, not looking up from the ingredients he was mincing. “How could I possibly know without seeing her?”

“Well, Arthur said—“

“Arthur hasn’t met her either. It’s just rumours.” Gaius looked at him carefully. “Don’t go meddling or prying, Merlin. I know what you’re like.”

“I have no idea what you mean,” Merlin smiled innocently.

—

Merlin didn’t see the family until the feast the following evening. The young girl, Emma, curtseyed politely to Uther when prompted by her mother, but otherwise stood in silence, head bowed. The knights all watched her curiously, and Merlin caught whispers in the halls — the servants were wary. Rumours of a curse had clearly spread fast.

He adjusted his scarf as the hall got more crowded, the noise getting louder and harsher; when he reached Arthur’s table with his pitcher of wine, Arthur muttered to him under his breath:

“Chin up, it won’t be too much longer.”

Merlin nodded and did his best to smile. He watched the way Lord Helgarth made polite conversation with the knights at his side but didn’t ever speak to his wife. Margaret, a large red-haired woman who looked tired for her years, talked to Morgana, and Emma, wearing a green dress too plain for a girl of her wealth, sat playing nervously with the ends of her hair, which hung in two thin plaits. Her appearance seemed to come from her father’s side rather than her mother’s: her dark hair, sharp nose and bony face were all very similar to Lord Helgarth. However, the cautious brown eyes and the freckles that covered most of her face came very clearly from her mother. She looked cautiously around at the people, until she saw Merlin looking at her. She didn’t meet his eye, and he carefully looked at the crown of her head instead of her face. He smiled slightly, trying to ease her obvious distress, but she didn’t smile back. She looked down at her untouched food and continued to fiddle with the braid in her hand.

The feast was nearly over when he heard the girl’s voice for the first time. The rumours were true: she could howl like something wild. The sound was piercing, driving Merlin’s fingernails into his wrists and making him wince in pain. Several people began shouting at once, and Merlin could just make out Margaret’s voice over the din.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why she does this, she just hates being touched — I don’t know why...”

Sir Leon was stood next to them, face stricken with panic, hands in the air.

“I was only trying to get her attention, she looked upset, I didn’t realise —”

Merlin looked at Uther, who was staring in silent horror at Emma. Arthur looked stunned. The commotion only made Emma scream louder, which in turn caused her father to begin to yell at her, face crimson with fury. Only Morgana seemed to pay any attention to the girl herself. She tried to talk calmly to her, but when she tried to get Emma to look at her the screaming turned to loud crying, and Emma slid from her seat to hide under the table. As she began to quieten down, Lord Helgarth went to Uther, head bowed.

“I can only apologise for my daughter’s behaviour, sire,” he said. His hands were clenched in fists at his side, and his words were clipped. The rage evident in his voice made Merlin’s stomach churn. “We thought she was improving, else we wouldn’t have brought her here.”

Merlin watched as Uther turned his narrowed eyes on his visitor, but before the king made his reply, Arthur appeared at Merlin’s side. He had an odd expression on his face that Merlin couldn’t quite place.

“Get her out of here,” Arthur whispered.

Merlin waited as Arthur confidently told the knights to go back to their own business; as Arthur began to talk urgently to Margaret, Merlin nervously crouched in front of the table. Emma sat huddled in a ball, still crying and rocking backward and forth frantically. Her hands tightly covered her ears. Merlin paused, then crawled down to sit under the table with her, realisation dawning as he watched her rock.

"Hi,” Merlin whispered. “I’m not going to touch you, don’t worry.” Emma looked up slightly, but not at his face. Merlin made sure to keep very still, his eyes trained on her hair rather than her face.

“I can take you somewhere quiet.”

Emma didn’t respond, but her rocking slowed slightly. Merlin took off his scarf, and held it out to her.

“Hold onto the end of my scarf, and I’ll hold this end; that way I don’t have to touch you, but you won’t get lost,” Merlin waited as Emma looked at the scarf nervously. Slowly she reached out, then gripped it tightly. They crawled out from under the table, and Merlin nodded to Margaret, who was talking worriedly to Morgana and merely smiled gratefully at him. Arthur glanced at Merlin, and then went to rejoin his father’s table. Merlin heard Uther talking loudly to Gaius, demanding to know what kind of magic this child possessed. Most of the commotion in the hall had died down, the knights instead whispering amongst themselves, and Merlin was able to pass by them mostly unnoticed. Merlin felt the fabric of his scarf pull taut as they passed Helgarth talking to Sir Leon. Helgarth glared at his daughter as she passed, and Merlin felt anger swell in his chest, but he ignored it, instead looking back to smile encouragingly at Emma, although the girl kept her eyes trained on the floor.

Once they were out of the hall, Emma dropped the scarf and walked beside Merlin. She was still crying, and Merlin wanted to hug her, but instead he merely led her outside through the courtyard and towards Gaius’ chambers.

—

Merlin shut the door behind him, casting a simple spell to dampen any sound that came from outside. Emma immediately ran to hide under Gaius’ desk, and Merlin sat down on the floor a metre away, trying to give her space.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, as Emma’s crying turned to quiet sniffing.

“Do you want to see something exciting?” Merlin whispered. Emma looked up, eyes stopping at his chin, and nodded.

“You have to promise to keep it secret, though,” Merlin said. He knew Gaius wouldn’t approve, but he desperately wanted to see the child smile. Emma nodded again.

“OK. I can do this trick, you see.” He cupped his hands. Emma watched him curiously. “Just keep your eyes on my hands.” He muttered a spell under his breath, and felt fragile wings tickling his palms. He opened his hands, and out flew a tiny blue butterfly. Emma gasped, staring in awe at the sapphire wings. Merlin smiled, relieved.

“Impressive, huh?”

Emma nodded, eyes still fixed on the butterfly, which had flown to perch on the windowsill. Its wings shone slightly translucent in the moonlight, and Merlin felt a thrill of pride at the sight of it.

“Do you have a favourite colour?” Merlin asked. Emma looked at him — and this time Merlin saw she was looking at his face, even if she didn’t meet his eyes. She nodded shyly, then looked around the room. Merlin waited as she stood up and walked to the table. She pointed at a book that Gaius had left out, then looked expectantly at Merlin.

“You like orange?” Merlin asked. Emma nodded. “I like orange too. The colour of sunsets and… and candlelight.” He cupped his hands, and Emma ran to sit down again, expectant and excited. When he reopened his hands, the butterfly that rested on his palm had wings of pale apricot that faded to white at the tips. This time, Emma grinned at him, and Merlin grinned back.

“You wouldn’t believe how long it took me to learn how to make them different colours,” he told her, and she nodded, watching the butterfly as it alit from Merlin’s palm, hovered in the air between them for a moment, then joined its companion on the windowsill.

—

Arthur hurried into Gaius’ chamber two hours later. He paused outside the door, listening for sounds of crying, but heard nothing. He opened the door, not sure what he was expecting to see. 

“Merlin, is she —?” he stopped short. Emma and Merlin were sat side by side at the table, a book in front of them. Emma was looking intently at an image of a butterfly, a smile on her face. Merlin looked up at Arthur, looking more relaxed than Arthur had seen him all day.

“She… she isn’t cursed, right?” Arthur asked.

“Of course not,” Merlin said, an amused smile just showing at the corner of his mouth. “She was just overwhelmed.”

Arthur nodded, and sat down opposite them at Gaius’ table. Emma glanced warily at him.

“My father wants them gone by tomorrow,” Arthur said. “Morgana convinced him to let them stay the night, but… he’s not happy with Helgarth.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” Merlin said, pulling an exaggerated frown at Emma, who giggled. “I will definitely miss my new friend. You’ll have to visit some time.” Emma nodded happily, and Arthur mentally made a note to talk to Morgana about that.

“Well, in the meantime it’s probably past her bedtime,” Arthur said. Both Emma and Merlin pouted at that, and Arthur had to stifle a laugh. “Seriously, your mother will be wondering where you are.”

As Emma followed Arthur out of the room, with Merlin close behind, she cast a last longing look at the two butterflies which still perched side by side on the windowsill, but only Merlin noticed. He winked at her, and she grinned back.

—

Once Emma was safely in her mother’s bedroom, Merlin followed Arthur to his chambers to ready him for bed.

“Do you think Uther will actually allow them back?” Merlin asked before he left.

“I don’t know,” Arthur said as he got into bed. “He’s not best pleased with Helgarth right now, but if it’s politically advantageous he’ll probably forget…”

Merlin nodded, but, just before he shut the door, Arthur called him back.

“You’re fond of her,” he said. Merlin looked down, failing to hide an embarrassed smile. Arthur watched as Merlin bit his lip, waiting to see if he decided to say what was so clearly on his mind.

“I… we understand each other,” Merlin said finally. “That’s a rare thing for me… to be truly understood.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope my description of Emma's meltdown/sensory overload is ok - I've never experienced it to this extreme (my sensory overload is very subtle and manifests more as irritation/anxiety than anything else) so I essentially exaggerated my experience and then added elements from my research into the topic. 
> 
> Also, heads up about the series as a whole: it's not a planned thing, this might be the last part or it might not; essentially I'm just putting anything I write with autistic!Merlin together, and I tend to write these short things when I have a scene I think will be fun/interesting/cathartic to write. If it does continue, it won't have an overarching plot, but the first story (Cloth Armour) is chronologically earliest unless I make it clear that something is a flashback.


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